


plastic palaces

by call_me_steve



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brother-Sister Relationships, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sokka (Avatar)-centric, author momentarily forgets how to tag, b/c she's a bender, kya takes katara to the northern water tribe when she's like five, so sokka and katara grow up seperated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:53:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25790149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_me_steve/pseuds/call_me_steve
Summary: The first time that Katara bends the water under their feet, Sokka is six years old. Almost immediately, he understands that the magic-water-thingy that Katara just pulled isn’t a very good thing.-When it turns out that Katara's a water bender, Kya and Hakoda decide that the best course of action to keep their daughter safe is to send her up to the Northern Water Tribe, where she can be with other water benders. Kya goes with her.Hakoda tells Sokka to forget about ever having a sister. He tells him to 'remember' that his mother died when he was born.As a result, Sokka grows up alone, (never forgetting about Katara or Kya), and this changes everything.
Relationships: Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 150





	1. book zero (chapter 1)

**Author's Note:**

> uh ok so,,,,,,,,,,, ive never written for atla before so this might be a bit of a trip :)) for now im just kind of testing the waters,,, so lets hope i get the characterization down !! haha,, 
> 
> this is gonna be multi-chapter, (tho lets hope i get my dc fics done too haha), but there's no schedule?? every chapter will be at least 2k so there's that. no idea how many chapters there will be, but we've gotta at least get to the end of book one so :)) ok thank u
> 
> uh i have a tumblr i guess: [potato-reblob](https://potato-reblob.tumblr.com/)

The first time that Katara bends the water under their feet, Sokka is six years old. 

The two of them- and their mother, of course, though she’s trailing behind them- are walking beside the ocean, carefully treading on the South Pole ice that threatens to dump them right into the frigid water. That’s why their mother is watching them- to make sure they _don’t_ go head-first into the water. The temperatures are so cold, you’re bound to turn into an ice cube before you can even say _boomerang._

While Katara’s eyes are focused on the way the water laps against it’s solid counterpart, Sokka’s mind is caught up in the excitement of turning seven. His birthday is in no more than _two_ weeks, and Dad promised him that once the special day was over, he’d teach Sokka how to use his boomerang. Plus, for _every_ water tribe birthday, the whole village gets together to have a _very_ special feast to celebrate the _very_ special day. That means that there will be all of the best foods, instead of the same soups and things they have most days. 

So, naturally, he’s very occupied with daydreaming of how _cool_ he’s going to be when he learns how to throw the boomerang as they walk. He barely notices when Katara halts by the water, but since their hands are intertwined, Sokka ends up getting yanked back to her side. 

“Katara,” he whines, tugging at her arm. She lets go of his hand to kneel down by the water side, sticking her finger up in front of her mouth to clumsily shush him. Indignantly, he scuffs his shoe against a little pile of snow. _“C’mon,_ Katara. You’ve already _seen_ the water, like, a million times!” 

Sokka watches as their mother crouches down with Katara. Her hands hover around his sister’s waist, in case she falls in, (which Sokka thinks would be kind of funny, but then thinks better of it because he doesn’t think having an ice cube for a sister would be very fun), and her eyes focus on the water with Katara, looking for something that doesn’t exist. 

“There’s nothing _there,”_ Sokka says. 

Mom looks up to Sokka, voice chiding. “Let your sister have her fun.” 

Katara’s version of fun is _so_ not fun, but Sokka settles back nonetheless. He kicks at the snow and huffs a little more, of course. Who knew having a little sister would involve staring at the _water._ The only time that Sokka ever stares at the water is when Dad takes him out on his fishing trips, and at least then, they’re both looking for _dinner._ Not whatever _Katara’s_ so caught up with. 

When Mom had told Sokka that he was going to have a younger sibling, he was imagining getting to _play_ with them. All of the other boys in the village are too _old_ to play with Sokka anymore. And they say that Sokka’s too _young_ and _little_ to play their games. Katara’s only a year and a half younger than Sokka, though, so they should be able to play together! But no. Katara would rather stare at the _water_ than go run around in the snow with him. At least _Dad_ runs around with him, whenever he’s not too busy doing all the cool adult things that Dad gets to do. 

(Just because Katara’s kind of weird doesn’t mean that he doesn’t _love_ her, though. He’ll get her to play with him- he _will.)_

With a little grumble, Sokka spins around, drawing a wobbly circle into the snow. Using the tips of his boots, he draws little lines around the outside of the circle. When he’s done, he very carefully steps out of the circle, frowning a little at the Sokka-sized footprints left in the center. It looks like the sun, though. So there’s that. 

Just as he gets to work drawing a bubbly cloud with his foot, there’s a little _plop_ sound. Katara giggles and Sokka whirls towards her, curiosity curling up in his chest. He steps around his sun and over to his mom and sister, watching as a thin stream of water rises from the ocean, curling ever so carefully around Katara’s fur-covered wrist. 

_What._

“Look, Mama!” Katara cheers, raising up her arms. 

With a little bit of coaxing from her, the water coils from one arm to the other, never touching her blue coat. She looks so concentrated, as she stares at the water spinning back and forth around her forearms. As quickly as the water had appeared, it splashes back into the water. Mom _tears_ Katara away from the ocean, pulling her up into her arms. Katara whines a little bit, protesting the jostling, but _she_ doesn’t see the look on Mom’s face. 

Sokka does. Sokka sees the way that Mom’s brows crease together and her skin goes a shade lighter. He sees the tiny, barely-there shake in her hands as she fumbles Katara around, until she’s settled down on her hip. There’s only one way to describe what Mom looks like- she looks like she’s just seen a _ghost._ (Even Sokka knows that ghosts aren’t real, though, so whatever Katara just did, it’s got Mom super spooked.) 

Almost immediately, he understands that the magic-water-thingy that Katara just pulled isn’t a very _good_ thing. It can’t be, not if it has Mom looking so _scared._ After all, Sokka’s never _seen_ Mom look like this. Not even when she first announced that Katara was coming any minute now, and that Dad had _‘better get his ass back from his hunting trip right this second’,_ and Mom didn’t look very Mom-like when _that_ happened. 

Softly, Sokka calls, “Mom?” 

“We have to go home,” she says, sharply.

Mom looks like she’s drifting away- like she’s _far_ away, actually. Sokka doesn’t like that one bit, so he latches onto Mom’s free hand, (even though Sokka’s a little too old to be holding his mother’s hand, because he’s almost seven years old). He pretends like he can be her anchor and keep her from leaving, and then he hurries along with her as she makes her way back to the village. 

It’s not a very long walk. They hadn’t gone that far in the first place, since it was almost time for dinner. With each igloo they pass, Sokka gives everyone a little wave and a smile. He has no idea what’s going on- why’s Mom so _worried?_ Is it because Katara’s been cursed like one of those princesses from Gran-Gran’s story?- but he doesn’t think that there’s any reason to make _everyone_ in the village so worried. 

Mom briskly walks past their own igloo, breezing straight past Dad. He’s sitting outside their igloo, a basket of fish sitting beside him. (Aw _man._ He didn’t bring Sokka along this time?) When he sees them, he shoots to his feet and rushes over, until his pace matches Mom’s stride. Sokka’s barely keeping up with it- Mom and Dad have _very_ long legs and Sokka has short-Sokka legs, which is very unfair, even though Mom says that he’s going to grow to be big and tall just like Dad is. 

“Kya?” asks Dad, peeking at a grumpy-Katara as she glares over Mom’s shoulder and at Mom’s grim look. “What’s going on?” 

For some reason, Mom doesn’t reply. She marches straight over to Gran-Gran’s igloo and ducks inside, gently pushing Sokka over to the side. Gran-Gran looks up from her stitching. Once Dad joins them inside, Mom sets Katara down by Sokka and says, “Can you two go outside, please? Mama needs to have a big grown-up talk with Dad and Gran-Gran.” 

Well, Sokka knows a dismissal when he sees one, so with yet _another_ huff, he pulls Katara out from the igloo and motions for her to go do something. _He’s_ going to listen in, thank you very much, because he’s almost seven and he’s _almost_ a big grown-up now. (And he’s worried, but he’s not going to say _that_ outloud.) 

Katara does the same huff-and-scuff thing that Sokka did earlier, when he shoos her away. “Let’s go _do_ something,” she says, like she gets to tell Sokka what to do, when she doesn’t do what _Sokka_ wants to do even though _he’s_ the older sibling. 

Like a very mature adult would, Sokka shushes his sister and leans his ear up against the ice-and-snow-packed igloo wall. “Why don’t you go over and talk to Miss Anaka?” 

Unlike Sokka, Katara wouldn’t know a dismissal if it looked her right in the eyes. She plops down beside him in an ungraceful flop, her furs spurring up for a moment. Then she crosses her arms and glares off at nothing. “I don’t get why Mama didn’t like the water trick!” 

Neither does he. Which is why he’s trying to _listen._ (Gosh, little sisters are so dumb sometimes.) _“Shush,_ Katara. I’m trying to _listen_ to them!” 

Through the thick walls, it’s a little hard to hear what Mom, Dad and Gran-Gran are trying to say. However muffled their words are, he can put together _enough,_ though. Mom claims that Katara did something called _water bending,_ which Sokka’s only ever heard about in Gran-Gran’s stories. Then Dad asks her if she’s sure, and she says she’s _very_ sure, and Dad asks _are you sure, Kya, because that isn’t-,_ and Mom says _I know, Koda. I saw her do it with my own two eyes._

It’s very back and forth for a little bit. Mom cuts Dad off and Gran-Gran says a few things like _we should’ve known, Kya._ Adults have very boring conversations. Can’t they just get to the important stuff, like _why_ it scared Mom? Sokka’s ear is getting very cold, here, and Katara won’t _stop complaining_. 

_Maybe you should take her up to our sister tribe,_ Gran-Gran says, and it takes Sokka a little bit to connect _“sister tribe”_ to the Northern Water Tribe. They don’t really hear a lot about the Northern Water Tribe anymore- they hear about that about as much as they hear about _water benders._ There weren’t supposed to be water benders anymore, according to Gran-Gran. She’d once told Sokka that there were some up north, but all the ones in the South Pole were gone. 

(Gone _why?_ Sokka had wanted to ask. Gone _how?)_

_Mom’s right, Kya,_ Dad says a little too-quietly. Sokka only barely hears it. _If the Fire Nation hears that there’s another water bender in the Southern Water Tribe, they’ll come down here and burn the village down just to get rid of Katara. It won’t_ matter _that she’s just a little girl. You need to take her there- and you can’t come back. Not until the war is over._

At that, Sokka pulls back like he’s been burned. An attack by the Fire Nation, so they can kill Sokka’s _baby sister?_ Just because she can do some weird water magic? Why would anyone do that? And- Dad wants Mom to take Katara and _leave?_ What would happen to Sokka, then? Would he go with them and leave the South Pole for forever? What about _Dad?_ Would they just leave him here?

Sokka makes up his mind quickly, and leaps into the igloo, not even caring that he might get scolded by Mom and Dad for listening. “You can’t go!” he shouts, as Katara pulls back the thick blanket hanging in front of the door. “You can’t!” 

“Sokka!” Mom cries. “Have you been listening this entire time?” 

Dad stands up before Sokka can respond, and scoops him into his arms. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, in that comforting-adult tone that Mom and Dad use when Sokka has a temper tantrum over something fixable. “Listen, kiddo, it’s-” 

Sokka wraps his arms around Dad’s shoulders, burying his face into the crook of Dad’s neck, where his furs give way to skin. _(Too old,_ he thinks, _I’m too old to be doing this,_ but he doesn’t care anymore because he doesn’t want Katara and Mom to _go.)_

“Sometimes we have to do hard things,” Dad says. “Sometimes we have to do _really_ hard things, but-” He stops saying whatever it is that he was about to say. “Nothing’s set in stone yet, Sokka. Don’t worry about it, alright?” 

_Okay,_ Sokka thinks. 

He worries about it.


	2. book zero (chapter 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka has a late night conversation with his mom.

On the eve of his seventh birthday, Sokka watches his mother pack away what’s left of her things. Katara sleeps peacefully off to the side, ignorant to the underlying anxiety that threatens to tear the tiny igloo apart. _Her_ bag sits by the entrance, much smaller than Mom’s is. By tomorrow, those bags will be tucked away in one of their boats. 

By tomorrow, Mom and Katara will be on their way to the other side of the globe, leaving Sokka and Dad behind in the Southern Water Tribe. 

Sokka can’t even _imagine_ leaving the tribe and his family behind. Mom can, apparently. Within a month, she’ll be up in their sister tribe with Katara, leading a new life that doesn’t involve her son or her husband or the _other half of her family._

(He’s not mad about it. He’s _not.)_

Gran-Gran had taken him off to the side after he’d overheard their conversation and she’d explained it all out for him. The Northern Water Tribe would be safer for Katara, because their sister tribe had other water benders like her. They’d be able to teach her to use her bending _and_ keep her safe from the Fire Nation- which she _also_ had to explain, because Sokka didn’t know all that much about the Fire Nation. 

Anyway- for Katara to learn from them when she gets older, she has to leave home. In order for her to be _protected,_ she has to _leave-_ (because Sokka, Dad, and the rest of the tribesmen don’t give enough protection already, _apparently.)_

By now, Sokka’s had two whole weeks to get Mom to stay here with him and Dad. He’s tried everything he could think of- from begging and pleading to shouting and crying. He’s thrown fits that he’s not very proud of, and he even tried to run away once, which ended with him coming home in the middle of the night with blue lips. Mom didn’t like him very much that night. But _none_ of it has worked. Not even trying to swindle her into letting Dad and Sokka go _with_ them worked. 

_Family stays together,_ he remembers saying to her, with tear tracks gleaming on his cheeks and snot in his nose. _So we’ll go with you and make sure you get there._

In response, he’d gotten sat down again, and Mom and him had a _very_ long talk about responsibility. As chief, Dad’s responsibility was to the tribe. As Katara’s _mom,_ Mom’s responsibility was to her. (Apparently, Katara meant more than whatever _Sokka_ had to say, even though Mom was _his_ mom first. (He doesn’t like himself much for that thought.)) Sokka’s given responsibility was to do what his parents said, which still doesn’t sound very fun at all. 

Katara- since she’s only five and a half- doesn’t have very many responsibilities. Her job mostly involves following Mom’s haphazard rule of _‘don’t waterbend right now’-_ though she’d said it as _‘don’t play with the water, sweetheart’_ which resulted in a meltdown that Sokka _swears_ broke his ears. 

He hasn’t seen her do her magic-water-thingy since that day by the water, so he supposes that she’s following it- though, to be fair, Sokka hasn’t seen much of Katara _at all._ They’re in the same igloo for bedtime, and that’s it. Dad’s been taking Sokka out fishing more and more lately, (which is weird because Sokka would’ve thought that they’d make him spend _more_ time with Mom and Katara, given that they’re _leaving soon.)_

Since Sokka’s still only six-years-eleven-months-and-many-days old, he doesn’t really have the patience to fish everyday. It’s a lot of staring at the water. (Dad is really good at it, so they come home with a lot of food, but. It’s a lot of waiting, too. Sokka _hates_ waiting.) All _he_ wants to do is have a big birthday celebration with Mom and Katara and Dad- Bato and Gran-Gran, too. He wants them to stay at home and to watch the sunset with them like they do _every_ year. 

He wants them to stay home for forever and ever and ever. Well- at least until he’s old like Dad.

For now, as a last ditch effort, Sokka says, “I’d protect her.” 

Mom’s still packing when he says it. Dad’s getting the boat ready under the light that Tui provides. Katara’s sleeping.

Sokka’s whole family is in the South Pole for the last time. By tomorrow morning- less than _half a day away-_ he’ll be seven years old and mom-less. Sister-less. Half-his-family-less, (though Bato says that’s not a word.)

That’s _totally_ unfair. 

“If the Fire Nation came,” he continues, kicking his legs out, “I’d protect her. Even if she _is_ a weirdo.” 

He’s sitting on top of a wooden box, wishing that his feet could touch the ground. He’s wishing that tomorrow wouldn’t come, even though he’s really excited to turn seven. Actually, Sokka’s wishing a _lot_ of things. He’s _always_ wishing for a lot of things. 

This argument- this whole _I’d protect her_ deal- has been his final say for the past three days. Mom’s answered the same way every single time he’s said it- with a sigh, a shake of her head, and his name. Her tone tells him to drop it. 

Sokka does _not_ drop it. 

“I _would!”_ he tells her. “You don’t _have_ to go. Dad and I wouldn’t _ever_ let anything happen to Katara! Never _ever.”_ Then, really, _really_ hoping that she’ll listen, he tacks on, “We’d protect _you too.”_

Mom’s tone becomes placating as she says, _I know,_ but it falls so flat that Sokka knows that she’s thinking he’s just one big joke. 

_Maybe she’s right,_ Sokka thinks. _This_ Sokka won’t be able to protect _anyone._ His feet don’t touch the ground and he doesn’t know how to throw a boomerang. Mom and Dad still carry him around sometimes because he’s so _small._ But- _seven_ year old Sokka? _He_ can start getting big and strong just like Dad. Seven year old Sokka will be able to protect _everybody._

He happily relays this to Mom, swinging his legs a little faster. Man, his Sokka-brain is so _smart._ He’s cracked the code, and now Mom’s going to call of her departure and she’ll stay with him and Dad and Sokka will get to keep playing with Katara for forever and ev-

And then Mom says, _How about this,_ in a way that makes him perk up. (He’s made a breakthrough, alright, but is it the _right_ breakthrough? Are they going to stay?) She abandons her packing and moves over to him, kneeling down and taking his hands in hers. Mom’s fingers are all long and slim, Sokka’s are small and a little grubby (according to Bato, but Sokka doesn’t really listen to Bato that much anymore, because unlike Dad, Bato’s jokes just _aren’t that funny.)_

“Grow up big and strong for me,” Mom says, “but do it so Katara and I can come _home_ someday.” 

Sokka deflates so quickly, he’s worried that he’s accidentally popped his body like the big, round fish-thing Dad found did. (It’d been spikey and ball-shaped, and Dad had been _very_ confused as to why it was all the way out here, and as soon as he’d wrestled the fishhook out of its mouth, it’d gone flat.) He _knows_ that this is the final note of their ongoing-conversation. There’s no getting Mom to stay. 

He looks over to Katara and blinks his tears away. What Mom’s worried about is a lot bigger than Sokka. It’s bigger than her two children and her little village- and that’s hard to imagine, too, because his family and his home is his _entire world._

“Okay,” says Sokka, after a long silence. He quickly bounces back to himself, gripping Mom’s hands. “I’ll grow up _so_ big and strong that you won’t _ever_ have to worry about the Fire Nation! And then when I do _that,_ you and Katara _have_ to come home. Okay?” 

Mom pulls him into her arms. She hugs him so tight, he’s a little afraid that she’s trying to absorb him, (and that wouldn’t make any sense, because why would she tell him to stay here with Dad and then try to _absorb him.)_ Even though he’s not really okay with becoming a part of his mother, he hugs her back just as fiercely, as if she’ll never leave as long as he keeps hugging her.

“Okay,” Mom says into his hair. “Okay, baby.” 

“I’ll take down the _entire Fire Nation_ if I have to,” he promises, as seriously as a six-years-eleven-months-and-many-days old can promise something like that. (For the record, it’s _very_ seriously.) For some reason, Mom laughs, and whenever Mom laughs, her entire body laughs with her. “I promise.” 

She scoops him up the way that she used to do when he was Katara’s age, and carries him over to his sleeping sister without a word. Then she pulls away the covers, blankets and furs they’ve laid down to ward away the winter chill, and settles him down beside Katara. Sokka curls around his sister and lets Mom tuck him in, so that the furs tickle the underside of his chin. Before she can leave, he lashes out and grabs onto her wrist, looking up at her. 

“You have to promise too,” he whispers, so he doesn’t wake Katara up. 

Mom looks him in the eyes and makes a promise neither of them can keep. 

After that, Mom goes back to her packing and Sokka starts trying to sleep. His thoughts are running a mile a minute, so it’s kind of hard. He thinks about sneaking onto the boat that they’re going to take, or about bribing Una- the village boy who’s taking them to the Northern Water Tribe- into letting him go with them. In the end, as he thinks about taking Katara out earlier than Mom’s departure is set for, (because Mom can’t _leave_ without Katara, that would ruin the whole _point),_ he falls asleep. 

When he wakes up, there’s no little sister curled up by his side. There’s no Mom meticulously packing her things. There’s only Dad, sitting beside him as he runs a hand through Sokka’s messy hair. Dad’s staring at the wall like it’s a painting, instead of a bunch of ice-and-snow piled up on top of each other to make their igloo. 

Sokka turns and tries to look at the wall, too, just in case there _is_ something new there that he’s missed, but he doesn’t find anything. 

Doing that _does_ alert Dad, though, and once he realizes that Sokka’s awake, he tugs Sokka’s body a little closer to him. “It’s just us now,” he says. “It’s just you and me.” 

_It’s just you and me,_ he says, and it rings inside Sokka’s head so loud he wants to clap his hands over his ears. They cement reality into his mind, telling him that Mom and Katara are _gone_ and that they’re not coming back. He might never get to _see_ them again. 

(He’s mom-less. (He’s seven.) He’s sister-less.) 

Mom and Katara hadn’t even said _goodbye!_ They’d left while he was sleeping like some sneaky _polar dog_ stealing their food in the dead of the night. Sokka never got to tell Katara (or Mom) that he _loves_ her. (Because he _does._ She’s weird and little and sometimes not very nice, but he _loves her.)_

But, before he can get all worked up about it, he stops himself. (Katara would’ve gotten mad about it.) He focuses on the fact that the two of them are going to be _safer_ in the Northern Water Tribe than they would’ve been at home. They might even be happier, which makes his stomach hurt to think about. 

“It’s better this way,” says Dad, voice thick. He says it like he’s trying to convince _himself_ that telling them to go was a good idea. Then he voices Sokka’s own thoughts, “They’ll be happy. They’ll be safe.” 

_I’d protect her,_ Sokka thinks. He borrows his head into Dad’s side and tries really, really hard not to cry. It’s not like Mom and Katara are _dead._ He’ll see them again. All he has to do is get stronger. _Better._

(Older. Taller. Bigger. Smarter.)

But, for now, he holds onto Dad like he’s about to disappear and pretends like he’s not crying.

(Because men don’t cry and Sokka’s going to have to be a _man_ if he wants to bring Mom and Katara home. He might only be seven, (mom-less and sister-less), but he’s going to grow up, because that’s all he can do anymore.) 

(He’ll get them back. He _will.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so,,,,,,,,,,,, i forget what this chapter is about thank you :) i prewrote a few chapters ahead of time so !! haha
> 
> one) bato is gonna be a bigger character for the next few chapters :) idk if ik how to write him yet but we'll go with it, lmk what u think of him next chapter when i post. i hc that he used to try and (awkwardly) get along with sokka, which involved very bad attempts at joking, but bato quickly realized that Sokka Does Not Like His Jokes At All and that He Doesn't Like Jokes Either, but how else do you talk to a Seven Year Old
> 
> two) sokka likes to believe he's older than he really is. he's seven and baby. don't believe him. 
> 
> three) i'm gonna try to update every sat (v ambitious of me, wow) but no promises. and also, yes ik its not sat yet because its thurs. before u get mad- listen ok its my birthday on sat,,,,, im finally gonna be old enough to get a jOB so im gonna be bUSY this weekend thank you 
> 
> ill link my tumblr l8r but its: @potato-reblob


	3. book zero (chapter 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and his dad have a talk.

Four days pass, and those four days are spent lying inside their igloo with Dad while thinking that _this feels wrong, this feels wrong, this feels wrong._

Sokka wakes up and turns seven without any fanfare that first day. He still feels six, (not even six-years-eleven-months-and-many-days, just _six)._ There’s a bad feeling that stays in his gut no matter what he eats or what he doesn’t. Sometimes it makes his stomach hurt really, really bad. When his stomach hurts, he feels like _crying,_ and when he feels like crying, he does his _very_ best not to, because he hasn’t seen _Dad_ cry yet, so men obviously don’t cry. 

(Sokka’s a man, now. He has to be so Mom and Katara can come home.) 

Dad spends those four days with Sokka, yes, but all he _does_ is stare at the wall like he did the morning of Sokka’s birthday. It’s only when Gran-Gran stops by- at noon and dusk, everyday without fail- that he gets up and sits with Sokka, Gran-Gran, and Bato. They all eat in detached silence. Not even _Sokka_ talks, and that’s because his stomach hurts so _bad_ lately that it feels like all his emotions are just one big stew pot that keeps on bubbling over. He tries to keep a lid on it, but it’s so _hard._

Whenever it’s silent like that, Sokka feels like Mom and Katara took away that piece of Dad that made Dad _Dad._ All they left Sokka with was this big, silent man who couldn’t _possibly_ be Dad. 

Bato says that losing Mom and Katara is really hurting him. It’s really hurting Sokka too. 

Once or twice, Sokka does his best to try and get Dad to leave the house. He doesn’t have the patience to sit around with his stupid belly-hurt. He wants to push that bad feeling deep, deep down by getting stronger. Then Mom and Katara will come home, and Dad will go back to being _Dad._

(Sokka doesn’t only miss his mom and his sister. He misses his _father,_ the bright and funny man who used to swing him around and that used to play in the snow.) 

In Dad’s place, Sokka gets Bato. Bato always seems to know when Sokka, and Dad, can’t sleep. On those nights he sneaks into their igloo and lays down with them. He squishes Sokka between him and Dad so that it feels like he’s safe and surrounded. 

It helps. Two sets of breathing feels wrong, but three feels a little bit more right. 

_After_ those four days, Dad starts listening to Sokka. But. More than Sokka _wanted_ him too. He goes outside, leaving at dawn and returning at dusk each and every day. Bato stays with Sokka while he’s gone, even though Sokka’s pretty sure that Bato would rather be doing a billion other things instead of babysitting. 

He always tries to make light of their situation by taking Sokka outside to play. The first day he came to fetch Sokka, he’d said, “If you stay inside any longer, you’ll start to shrivel up like a sea prune.” 

Sokka had _obviously_ known it was a joke. “I don’t think people _can_ shrivel up,” he remembers saying, skeptically. 

“‘Course they can,” Bato had said, guiding him outside. “It normally happens as you get old, though. Like your Gran-Gran-” 

“-or like you?” 

(Still, though, Sokka really can’t look at Gran-Gran the same way when they eat dinner.) 

Bato had stopped trying to sound like Dad after that, but he _did_ comment on how _grown-up_ Sokka’s been sounding lately. In return, Sokka explained to him all about his promise to Mom- about getting strong so he can stop the Fire Nation, bring back Mom and Katara, _and_ get Dad to be Dad again. 

For a moment, Bato had been quiet. Then he’d said, “Those are some pretty big goals, kiddo.” 

They’d left it at that. 

One thing Sokka realizes about this new _After_ he’s living in, (which is what Bato had called it, while trying to explain Sokka’s belly-hurt feeling to him, (the belly-hurt was because Sokka’s heart was feeling so very bad that his _belly_ was feeling just as bad to let him know)), is that everyone in the village _looks_ at him weirdly. It never used to happen before, but whenever he talks to anyone who isn’t Bato or Gran-Gran, (or Dad, but Sokka doesn’t really _talk_ to Dad that much, anymore), they look at him like he’s younger and smaller than he really is. Like he’s about to _crumble_ like _shattered ice._

_Pity,_ Bato had called it. Sokka quickly realizes he doesn’t like pity very much. 

He _also_ decides that it’s better not to talk about Mom and Katara in front of Dad. Whenever he does, Dad’s face kind of crumples in on itself and his eyes get glassy. He drifts like Mom was, when Katara first did her water-magic-thingy. In order to keep Dad from doing that, Sokka figures it’s best not to talk about them. But only when he’s around Dad- with Gran-Gran, he asks for stories from when Mom and Dad were little like him. With Bato, he asks for stories of little him and Katara. 

It’s all to keep his memory fresh. He doesn’t want to forget about them- if he does, how will he ever remember to get them home? 

So, Sokka remembers. He talks with Bato and Gran-Gran, waits for Dad to get home, and falls asleep squished between him and Bato. (He only waits up for Dad, because part of his Sokka-brain decides that one of these days, Dad’s not going to come home at all.) 

More days pass. Then _weeks_ pass. 

Mom-less, sister-less weeks. Dad-less weeks. 

Eventually, Sokka slips up. Mom and Katara still _exist_ in his world- it was only natural that he was going to bring them up in front of Dad again. He ends up asking for Dad to teach him to use the boomerang. He says, “If I don’t start soon, Mom and Katara won’t _ever_ get to come home! I can’t defeat the Fire Nation without a _weapon!”_

It happens on one of those rare days where Dad is actually home for the day, because he’s taking a rest from his all-day hunting trips. In a day or two, he’ll be gone again. So, when Sokka brings it up, they’re completely alone in the igloo. Gran-Gran has stopped coming over. Bato will be back by bedtime. 

_(We’re giving you father-son time,_ Bato had explained. (He explains a lot of things, since Mom and Dad aren’t around to do it.)) 

Dad goes still, like he’s turned into an ice-cube. His eyes go far away for a second and Sokka snaps his mouth shut with an audible click, but then Dad blinks back to himself, so much faster than Sokka’s ever seen him do. 

“Sokka,” he says. “Can you come over here for a moment?” 

Dutifully, Sokka plods across their igloo, abandoning his fishhooks. He takes a seat, legs folded, in front of Dad like he’s been asked. Since this is the most of Dad that he’s seen in a long, long time, he makes sure to pay _very_ close attention. 

(His belly starts to hurt a little bit when he tries to imagine what Dad could possibly be asking, but he remembers getting a letter from Una, telling them that they got there safely and that he’d be back soon.) 

(There wasn’t, by the way, a letter from Mom.) 

“I know that Gran-Gran told you about who the Fire Nation is.” Sokka bobs his head. “And about how we had to send Katara away so she’d be safe. Right?” Another nod. “Good.” 

Sokka _also_ knows that the two are tied- Katara’s water-magic-thingy means that the Fire Nation doesn’t like her, and the Fire Nation wants her gone so they had to send her away. But that’s only because of what he overheard, not because of what Gran-Gran told him. 

Dad starts explaining everything a little more in depth. He talks about how the Fire Nation had once come to the Southern Water Tribe and how they’d killed _tens_ of people, all because they could do the same trick that Katara could. (Just on a bigger scale, of course.) The idea that the Fire Nation would do that makes Sokka’s stomach roll and ache really badly. Apparently these benders posed a threat to the Fire Nation, so they had to be ‘disposed of’. 

“They did the same thing to the Air Nomads,” Dad explains. “They killed all of them- each and every airbender and nomad that lived in the temples.” 

“If they killed all of the water benders, then why are there benders up north?” Sokka asks, pushing down the genocide of all the Air Nomads. 

“The Northern Water Tribe is _much,_ much bigger and stronger than our little tribe down here. They’ve stayed out of the way of the Fire Nation for a very long time, by not dealing with anyone else. Plus, the Fire Nation couldn’t just _attack_ a huge civilization of water benders that easily. They’d have some trouble with that.” 

_That’s_ why the majority of the Southern Water Tribe doesn’t like their sister tribe much- because they’ve basically stood by while their tribe was hurt, over and over. _(But,_ Sokka thinks, _but, but, but. Why hate them if they were only trying to save themselves?)_

Next, Dad talks about the long, near-one-hundred-year war that’s been going on. “The Fire Nation keeps attacking places for their wealth. Then they claim them for themselves, and make the foriegn lands their colonies. They did this a lot down in the Earth Kingdom.” 

_(Colonies?_ Sokka asks. _Foreign?_

Dad has to start again.) 

Eventually, Dad’s explanation draws to a close. Sokka knows _so_ much more about the world than he used to. It’s so much _bigger_ than he’d ever have imagined- big and confusing and _awe-inspiring._ There’s a whole bunch of people out there who are magical just like Katara, too. There’s earthbenders who can steal the dirt from right under Sokka’s feet, and firebenders who can breathe out flames just like the dragons from Gran-Gran’s stories. 

(There used to be airbenders who could harness the wind. They all died with the Air Nomads.) 

Things happened- the Fire Nation grew greedy for power and land. They killed the airbenders that threatened them. They murdered the waterbenders of the Southern Water Tribe. They enslaved earthbenders and non-benders for money. 

(It’s a lot to wrap his head around. He understands that the firebenders are bad, and that they’ve done a lot of horrible things.) 

“If they find out there’s a waterbender in the Southern Water Tribe- or that there ever _was,_ they’d come all the way down here to our tribe in order to try and find them.” Dad says it with raw urgency that Sokka doesn’t understand. 

“That’s why you had to send Katara away,” Sokka agrees, glumly. “But I already _know that._ And now that she’s gone, we don’t have to worry about the Fire Nation anymore.” 

Dad shifts so he’s holding his hands out. Without giving it too much thought, Sokka stands up and lets Dad swing him onto his lap. He doesn’t even worry about being too old or think about how men wouldn’t _ever_ let themselves sit on their father’s lap. Instead, he just focuses on the fact that his dad is actually _here_ for once, instead of being all far away like always. 

After Dad gives himself a minute to think about what he wants to say, he clears his throat. “That’s not _entirely_ correct,” he admits. “We still have to worry about the Fire Nation finding out, Sokka. If they do, they’ll come down here to find out where that waterbender _went.”_

 _They’d hurt us,_ Dad doesn’t say. Sokka hears it loud and clear. 

“I’ll be _super_ quiet about it,” Sokka promises. “No one will know that Katara was ever weird!” 

“Sokka-” His father huffs in frustration. “I need you to do something for me. Something _very_ important- to keep us, Mom and Katara _safe.”_

_Important_ catches his attention. _Keep Mom and Katara safe_ draws him in. A giddy, little feeling dances its way down to his toes- he’s not sure what it has to do with their conversation, but if it helps him protect those important to him, then he’s ready to do what he can. 

And then Dad says, _Forget about Mom and Katara,_ and Sokka feels like he’s just skidden on the ice, only to slam right into an igloo’s outer walls. 

He’s trying so hard _not_ to forget about them, so _why?_

Dad’s voice goes hard around the edges. “From this day on, you don’t have a sister. You haven’t _ever_ had a sister, let alone one who can waterbend named Katara. She doesn’t exist to you anymore. Her name doesn’t _mean_ anything to you.” The grip Dad has on his sides grows stronger. Sokka’s stomach starts to spin over and over. It _hurts._

He doesn’t understand. Sokka _doesn’t understand._

Dad looks him in the eyes. He’s _crying-_ Dad’s actually _crying_ for the first time in Sokka’s _entire_ life. “Your mother died when you were born,” he explains, voice hard and thick. Sokka tries to look away from him, but Dad moves his face right back. “Look at me, Sokka. I _need_ you to do this.” 

(He does _not_ choke up when he asks _why._ He _doesn’t.)_

Instead of a response, Dad tugs him closer. His head comes to rest on Sokka’s shoulder. “Don’t fight me on this. Our tribe is already in danger enough as it is- and I _know_ you won’t listen to me if I put it any other way, so if you won’t do this for me, _do it for our tribe._ Okay?” 

Sokka would do _anything_ for his tribe. (For his family. His mom. His sister.) 

“Okay,” he replies.

(His shoulders feel so, so heavy.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) bato is not funny, and that's why he does not like jokes. thank you for understanding. 
> 
> 2) the history lesson is a LOT to tell a seven year old, of course, but hakoda knows that sokka needs to know this stuff, and he figures it might help sokka realize how dire their situation is.
> 
> 3) hakoda does have reasons for telling sokka to forget them! and he's not t r y i n g to put that much responsibility on sokka's shoulders, but honestly, sokka probably wouldnt listen to him if he'd tried to put it any other way (hence why he says that)
> 
> 4) bro,,,, sokka,,,, kiddo,,, cry sometime ok


	4. book zero (chapter 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The years pass. Sokka turns twelve, and Dad pulls him aside to have another talk.

For the duration of the time that Sokka’s seven, he focuses on getting used to the new  _ After _ that he’s been thrust into. No one talks about Mom or Katara anymore. When his conversation with Dad ended, not even Bato or Gran-Gran brought them up. 

Despite what Dad asked of him, Sokka doesn’t forget about the two of them. He outwardly pretends like he has, but internally he latches onto the memories he has and holds onto them as tightly as he can. During long nights, ones spent squished between Dad and Bato, he tries to remember the way Mom smiled. While Dad’s gone during the day, Sokka does his best to imagine Katara getting powerful enough to split the ocean in two. (Because, come on, she’s totally going to learn that- It’d be so cool!)

His eight birthday passes quietly. (There’s been no contact from his mother- it’s by now that Sokka realizes he hasn’t seen her in a  _ year.) _ They don’t celebrate this one either, though that’s only because Sokka decides he’d either spend the day hiding from everyone instead of trying to have fun in a life that doesn’t have room for Mom and Katara. 

Dad finally decides to teach him how to throw a boomerang, at least. Once Sokka gets the hang of throwing-and-catching it without losing his head, he and Dad build snowmen so he can start target practice. Halfway into the year, Bato helps Sokka make his first club and promises to take him hunting after his next birthday. 

Instead of hunting, though, Sokka’s ‘year nine’ is spent perfecting the boomerang on his own and doing  _ women’s work. _ (Dad and Bato had left for a big hunt, and Gran-Gran had  _ leapt _ on the opportunity.  _ I’ve been cheated out of a granddaughter to pass this all down to, _ she’d said, and that had been the only time that Sokka ever felt the need to wonder if she was talking about Katara or not.) 

_ This _ is the first time Sokka ever really sees a real overlap in the separated roles in the tribe- (he hadn’t had enough time with Mom to see it, and Katara never got old enough to start her chores.) Men fight and hunt, Sokka realizes. Women cook and mend. Sokka is forced to learn both and he  _ hates _ it. 

This is  _ also _ the first time that Sokka’s impressionable mind sees a lesson splayed out before him and hears it wrong. He takes all of the raw hurt in his heart and twists it so bad that his mind skews. His  _ world _ keeps  _ changing, _ so he takes what he can and creates himself a few truths. 

One: Katara matters (mattered?) more than he does. 

Two: He’s  _ less _ because he’s not a bender like Katara (which is why she matters more than him), and  _ because _ of that, he needs to get better. Now. 

Three: If Katara or Mom hadn’t been  _ women, _ maybe they would’ve been strong enough to stay. 

Three- because, because,  _ because. _

Men  _ fight. _ Women do not. Men  _ protect. _ Women do not. (Women need protection. That’s why Mom left with Katara.) Men  _ provide _ and the women nurture- meaning that men will bring home the food and the women will prepare it. Meaning that the men will fight so they can thrive and the women take after the children when their husbands are gone, so that the tribe can continue on.  _ Meaning _ that the men  _ protect _ and the women mend clothes and put together blankets.

This is the way that  _ Sokka’s _ world works- (and, yes, years from now Sokka will look back on this little version of himself, and he will  _ hate _ this child’s views. He will understand that he is flawed and that he was wrong, and then he will do what he does best. 

He will adapt and grow to be  _ better.) _

By the time that he’s ten and a half, he’s completely done with doing women’s work and Bato’s taking him hunting weekly. Dad teaches Sokka to set up traps, (though he says they won’t do anyone much good, even if Sokka’s good at making them), and how to track animals down by using the world around you, (which Sokka starts off being  _ very _ bad at, but he’s happy to announce he’s much better). When it comes to actually killing the animal that they’re hunting, Sokka comes up short. 

He can  _ never _ seem to get the animal in just the right spot so he can hit it just the right way with just the right amount of force. He  _ knows _ the right spot and the right way and the right force. So why doesn’t the execution of it  _ work? _

One night, a little closer to Sokka’s eleventh birthday, he lies awake in his igloo, back pressed against the frigid wall. He’s doing his best to remember his mother’s face and the way her laugh sounded, or what her voice was like when she was tired. (He remembers Katara so clearly that it hurts to think of her, some nights, so why can’t he remember what his own  _ mother _ looks like-)

Dad and Bato think he’s asleep, so they’ve quietly squirreled themselves away on the other side of their home, talking among themselves. For the past hour now, they’ve discussed the status of the war and the rebellions. 

“We need to do  _ more,” _ says Dad, and Bato returns, “We  _ can’t.” _

“Something has to give,” Dad continues. “I can’t keep living in constant fear- expecting the Fire Nation to attack without me knowing it. I can’t keep  _ wondering _ if they’re going to come  _ here _ and decide that letting us live without benders isn’t good enough!” 

Bato lets out a quiet, “I know.” 

They go silent. 

Sokka thinks about Mom and how she wore her hair. He can’t come up with anything. (But- he  _ can. _ Katara comes up. Katara, with her small braid and her hair loopies that Gran-Gran has. Had Mom wore the same style?) There’s a big Mom-shaped hole in his head that makes his stomach churn. (It hurts all the time, now-a-days.) He still remembers her words- the ones she’d left him with that last night they’d shared- so why can’t he remember what she  _ sounded _ like as she said it? 

Then Dad breaks through his train of thought and says, “Sokka’s not a fighter,” and Sokka’s attention snaps back into place faster than he can shout  _ boomerang! _ these days. 

Bato repeats,  _ I know, _ and adds, “But he’s  _ brilliant, _ and that counts for so much more.” 

“Not in the South Pole,” Dad replies. “If he’d been in the Northern Tribe. Or if he’d been born  _ anywhere but here-” _

Sokka tries to keep his breathing level.  _ Don’t send me away, _ he thinks,  _ please don’t send me away. _

“Don’t worry about that right now, Hakoda.” Bato’s voice is steady and acts as an anchor. “When Sokka’s old enough, he can decide what to do for himself. You owe him  _ that _ choice, at the very least.” 

Now it’s Dad’s turn to repeat Bato’s  _ I know. _ Before the conversation can continue, Dad stands and moves over to Sokka. He sinks down and starts running a hand through Sokka’s hair, and this is how they stay until Sokka finally falls asleep. 

The conversation stays, too.  _ Bigger and stronger _ always overlaps it, striving to be heard. 

(Sokka hardly feels as though he’s  _ brilliant, _ by the way. Now-  _ Dad’s _ brilliant. He’s the one who always catches the animal and gets the fish. He’s the one who always navigates the waters and never capsizes the canoe.  _ He’s _ the one who never slips up when talking to the village about the newest baby.) 

Eleven years old passes by and the conversation pounds in Sokka’s skull like an insult. (He doesn’t remember much from being eleven, though.) 

Then he turns twelve. 

The day itself is normal. They have a feast that holds food Sokka’s caught himself, and then he and Dad paddle themselves out into the water on the canoe, just in time for sunset. Sokka will never get tired of watching the water reflect back the sun’s purple-pink hues as day turns to dusk turns to night. Everytime he sees it, he remembers that it’d been Mom’s favorite thing to see. 

(He wonders if Katara’s somewhere out on the water, watching the same sun. (Actually, he wonders about her life a lot. Is she happy, up in their sister tribe? Does she remember him? How’s her waterbending, these days?)) 

When the sun is completely gone and the world has gone still once more, Dad starts rowing themselves back to shore. The canoe bumps against the ice and Bato appears to help them out, before he and Dad reach down to yank the canoe out of the water. Sokka helps to push it over to the village proper, and then the three of them return to their igloo, changing into their sleep clothes dutifully. 

It’s when Sokka’s crawling into bed, that Dad speaks up. So far, ever since the end of the feast and the launch of the canoe, they hadn’t exchanged a single word. Now, Dad asks him to hold up and to head over to his side. 

Sokka does, only stopping long enough to ask what’s going on. 

All Dad does is stare at him, hands resting on Sokka’s shoulders and eyes boring into Sokka’s own. Tentatively, Sokka calls his dad’s name, worried because he’s seen that far away look in Dad’s eyes before. 

“It’s nothing,” Dad decides, quickly. “Go on to bed.” 

After sharing a confused look with Bato, Sokka does as told. He’s got his own mound of blankets and pillows away from Dad now that he’s older, so he pulls them all up to his chin and settles in. He tries his best to not wonder if something happened to Mom or Katara. (Did the Fire Nation attack the Northern Water Tribe? Did-?) 

_ Did, did, did? _ Sokka thinks, and the answer to all of his questions comes a few days later. 

This time, it’s Bato who has Sokka sit down, and it’s Bato who nudges Dad to speak up. However rare it is to have Bato sit in on their personal, serious conversations, Sokka pays it no mind. He briefly glances at Bato, and then focuses on Dad, ignoring the churning in his belly. 

Dad, pressured by Bato, starts talking about the war. Not all of it makes perfect sense, but Sokka gathers that the Fire Nation is winning- Dad says they’re winning too  _ easily, _ actually- and that something must be done.  _ Something has to give, _ Dad says and says and says. “We’re at a stand still- He hasn’t taken Omashu, Ba Sing Se, or the Northern Water Tribe yet. He hasn’t even  _ tried.” _

“He?” asks Sokka. 

“The Firelord, Ozai,” Bato supplies. “The leader of the Fire Nation.” 

Dad nods. “Right now, what we need is a fighting force- something to combat against the Fire Nation. Our sister tribe remains impartial to the war. Ba Sing Se is too caught up in itself that I hardly believe they  _ realize _ there’s a war. The Southern Water Tribe is the only group I know of who’s fully prepared to attempt something.” 

That sounds like home, Sokka thinks. Brave men, ready to do what they must. But, even after thinking that, Sokka still doesn’t get why Dad’s bringing all of this up. To keep him informed? 

Sokka thinks about what Dad said  _ really _ hard. And then- oh. Oh. Oh  _ no. _

“You can’t,” Sokka spits out, so very quickly that he feels like he’s six years old and talking to Mom. “You  _ can’t _ go.” 

“We-” 

“You  _ can’t,” _ Sokka stresses. “People  _ die _ in war.” 

Dad nods, not understanding. “They do, which is why we have to go out there. To try and stop the Fire Nation from killing anyone else.” 

(Sokka remembers a late night conversation he never should have heard.  _ I can’t keep  _ waiting-)

“You can’t  _ leave with them.”  _

“As the chief of our tribe, Sokka, I  _ have _ to. I’m an able bodied man, and  _ all _ able bodied men are going with us. We’re trained warriors-” 

Sokka suddenly doesn’t care about composing himself or about Bato listening in. He  _ launches _ to his feet and shouts, “You don’t  _ understand! _ People  _ die _ in war!” 

_ “Yes, _ Sokka-” 

“I can’t  _ lose you!” _ he bursts. “I can’t lose  _ you _ or  _ Bato!  _ The two of you are all I have  _ left, _ besides Gran-Gran! If you  _ leave, _ you’ll  _ die, _ and then I’ll have  _ no _ Mom,  _ no _ Dad,  _ no _ Bato, and  _ no-” _ -Dad tries to interrupt with a call of his name, but Sokka steamrolls ahead- “-nobody else! Don’t you  _ get it? _ I can’t  _ lose _ anyone else!” 

The igloo falls silent again, but it still feels like Sokka’s shouts are pounding against the walls. 

Dad looks up at Sokka like he’s some sort of puzzle, or like he’s animal tracks that need to be analyzed. Then, very carefully and very quietly, he says, “I have to go.” 

Resolutely, Sokka harshly wipes at his eyes and levels a glare at his father.  _ Everything _ is flashing back to when he was six and scrambling for footholds that weren’t ever there. What will happen this time? Will Dad abandon him and then will Gran-Gran urge him to forget he’d ever had a father in the first place? 

“Fine,” he says. “But I’m going too.” 

“You,” Dad shoots back, “are staying with the tribe. You’re too young to go off to war-” -then, as an afterthought, he adds, “and the tribe is going to need a man to stay here and to protect them.” 

“I-” 

Dad stands up. Sets a hand on Sokka’s shoulders. Says, “Being a  _ man _ means knowing where you’re needed. You, Sokka, are needed  _ here. _ With the tribe and with Gran-Gran. Understand?” 

“If being a man means knowing where you’re needed,” says Sokka, carefully, “then you’d know that you’re needed here, too.” 

“I’m needed in the war.  _ You’re _ needed here,” Dad repeats. 

“Yeah- and I need  _ you.”  _

(Sokka doesn’t show up the day that Dad and the fleet leave. 

They never say goodbye to each other.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhurgh sokka, my MAN. being sexist? not a good look,,,,, 
> 
> i wasn't sure if i really wanted to write him being a sexist?? but it's a minor part of his character development in the show, and i wanted to keep it in, so i could stay close to the show itself. hehe. 
> 
> anyway this is late as hell, yes. but i have school starting and i figured that i'd start doing every other week on sat, but then my wifi died on sat so. haha.


End file.
